Sensory Overload
by Bjrit92
Summary: The senses are powerful things. How can each sense singularly capture that which is John and Sherlock? Let me show you.
1. Sound

Disclaimer: Do Not Own.

* * *

"What do you think about Chinese for dinner?"

"Not hungry."

"Sherlock, you need to eat."

"Boring."

"Thai?"

_Grunt_

"Italian?"

_Huff_

"American?"

"Really, John?"

"Sherlock, the case has been closed for six hours. You haven't eaten since Monday."

"Irrelevant."

"Sherlock, you are going to eat if I have to sit on you and force it down your throat."

"Innuendo intended?"

_Smack_

"Angelo's."

"The usual?"

"Of course."

"Are you actually going to eat it?"

"It remains to be seen."

"Sherlock."

"Bribe me."

_Kiss_

"You taste of tea."

"Tea is practically all I've been able to consume with you dragging me around London at all hours of the bloody day."

"Irrelevant."

"Yes it bloody well is relevant. Food is necessary to survival. If one doesn't eat, one doesn't survive."

"And water is wet and the earth travels around the sun."

"You wouldn't know that if it weren't for me."

"Boring."

"I'll go and pick up the food. Don't make me carry out my threat, you know I will."

"Threat?"

"Sitting on you and forcing you to eat."

"As a doctor, you of all people should know that is not the best way to consume anything, lest attempt to digest it."

_Shuffle_

"Bloody smart-arse."

"Simply stating the obvious, John."

"As am I."

_Creak_

"Anything else while I'm out?"

"Milk."

_Sigh_

"Be good."

_Door Closing_

"Boring."


	2. Sight

The smaller man shuffles into the cluttered sitting room in a well-worn dressing gown and pajamas, two steaming cups of a brown liquid—tea?—in his hands. His blonde hair is in disarray from a night spent in bed, yet to be combed. His eyes are still half-closed with sleep. He sets one cup of tea on the small coffee table by the couch and sets the other on the end table beside a comfortable looking armchair. He picks up the newspaper sitting beside the stack of beakers on the coffee table. and sits down in the armchair. The only light in the room comes from the windows on the far wall with the curtains drawn back. There are books littering the shelves and a skull sitting on the seat of a tall-backed armchair opposite of the one the small man is currently occupying. He glances once at the skull before looking to his paper. The man yawns as he opens the paper and his eyes begin scanning headlines and newsprint. He blinks sleep from his eyes and reaches with one hand to the cuppa on the small table. He takes a sip and sets it back on the table. His eyebrows furrow slightly and the corners of his mouth twitch. The tea has left a small drip on the corner of his mouth. He rubs his cheek against his shoulder in an effort to clean the drip away. He glances up, away from the paper. He folds the paper and sets it on his lap as his eyes dart lazily around the room. His arms stretch above his head and a yawn takes over his face. He sets the newspaper on the coffee table and stands. He blinks hard and musses his hair with his left hand. He walks around the chair and toward a door slightly ajar. Without knocking, he pushes the door open. A stream of light from a crack in the curtains on a single window illuminate the bedroom. There is a bookshelf in the corner and a desk at the wall, yet there are books and various scientific equipment strewn over every available surface. Something green sits oozing in a bowl on the desk. A wardrobe door is open wide, providing the room with a view of carefully hung button-downs and stacked dress pants. The bed is in the center of the room against a wall, the sheets are jumbled and bunched and the duvet is on the floor. A single blanket covers a body on the right of the bed almost completely. A tuft of brunette curls is visible on a pillow. John sits next to the person in the bed and the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles fondly. He reaches over and strokes the curls and the body rolls over so it's front is now facing John. A face can now be seen attached to the head of messy curls. Pale features and sharp angles with eyes closed ringed with thick lashes. A small smile graces the cupid's bow lips and cerulean eyes blink open sleepily. The two men's eyes are fixed lovingly, privately on one another and the blonde man leans over and places a chaste kiss on the brunette's smile. He draws back and the brunette man's arm appears from under the blanket to wrap it's hand around the older man's neck, preventing his retreat. The latter's lips twitch and he leans back to the younger's face, kissing him again, less chastely. A moment passes and the two part, their foreheads touching. Lips move to form words. The younger man reaches his head up to present the other with another kiss. The blonde man pulls away, winking at the confused expression donning the brunette's features. The blonde man stands up and walks around the bed, approaching the door. He reaches out an arm and pushes the door closed.


End file.
